Ginger
by Fadeaway Windwaker
Summary: I'm only recycling you, trying to find a way you can be useful...there's more than one way to bring out the anger in Flyheight." He was raging in her head and before she could get rid of him, she had to get closer...Raven/Fiona
1. Prologue

_Ginger_

Fadeaway Windwaker

**A/N: Back in black. And what better way to reacquaint myself with the fanfiction world than with my first love, Zoids?**

_Prologue_

Silence.

Stillness.

Serenity.

And…interruption.

A lull in the peace.

Sweat-soaked pillow.

Shallow breathing.

A pale blonde tossing and turning.

The nightmare.

Fear.

No

escape.

It was deathly quiet. Shadows stole across the floor, taunting. She lay still, not blinking, barely breathing. She wasn't safe.

He was coming for her.

She was terrified.

Wide crimson eyes looked blankly to a darkened ceiling, vision blurring as she shifted consciousness. The horror seized her mind, blinding rational thought. The footsteps. Soft, deliberate. Shivers slipped down her spine. Crimson vision stole a glance at the foot of the bed. Her heart stopped.

It was happening again.

The figure was defined by darkness, swift and silent. Coming without warning. Shadows characterized him. The eyes were black, emotionless. They conveyed only one thing.

Hatred.

Bitter, acidic hatred.

She could see herself in these eyes, witness her fear. She hated that.

He reflected her terror and embraced it. It was what he wanted. It was why he came.

To taste her fear. To hear her scream.

To watch her die.

She forced her eyes to close as he stepped forward. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't see what she became in his eyes, how his vision obscured her character.

How he transformed her.

Then the hands were on her neck and her eyes were wide, unable to close themselves to death. His grip tightened and she choked, unable to tear the screams from her throat. She writhed in agony, desperately wishing for breath. For someone to hear her silence.

Face still coated in shadow, unaffected. But the eyes, oh those eyes of haunted black, glowed with death. With malice. With satisfaction.

She could not scream. She could not resist. He knew it. And he fed hungrily upon her terror, draining her life as she stared in silent anguish. She choked, and then her hands were on his, frantically trying to pry them from her throat. Fingernails clawed blindly to no avail. And his grip grew tighter still, desperate to evoke more fear.

A strangled moan finally escaped and he panicked, twisting his hands around her neck. The deed had to be completed. Crimson depths began to fade. There was nothing left. Her eyes took a final glance upward…and she saw herself.

In his eyes.

She watched herself die.

And she watched him do it.

He was death.

She had seen death.

And she knew his name.


	2. Disintegrate

_Ginger_

Fadeaway Windwaker

**Chapter One: Disintegrate**

The clock struck 2.

Fiona bolted upright, drenched in sweat and shaking uncontrollably. She choked despairingly, desperately gasping for air that would not come.

Nothing. Not a breath. It was then that she realized the constriction. Those hands…bent on destroying her. She was still seeing darkness.

She was still trapped.

At this she panicked, crimson eyes wide with delirium. She began blindly fighting her invisible captor, kicking wildly, furiously attempting to free herself from her enemy's grasp. The grip on her throat was indomitable. Her lungs demanded air that could not be found; her face was stained with flowing tears. And still she kicked, writhing violently, refusing to give up the fight.

A fight for life is not easily given up.

She knew she was going to lose. She could feel it. Her strength was slowly draining, her body threatening a loss of consciousness at any second. The view in front of her was beginning to blur…her mind ceasing to function…and then…

The constraint was ripped from her throat. Freedom. Air. She could breathe. A strangled cry escaped as she breathed heavily, unable to calm herself down. It was only after she had taken several huge, shuddering breaths that Fiona realized her hands were being restrained. Eyes widening in fear, she opened her mouth to scream…

"Christ, Fiona."

The scream died before it hit the air. She wasn't alone. She knew this voice.

Van.

Shivering, she brought her eyes up to meet his. His hands were tightly encircling her wrists, as if attempting to pacify her. His dark eyes shone with anxiety, relief, disbelief…

And…fear. Her mind spun. He was afraid for her.

He was afraid _of_ her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered tearfully.

It was then that her world went black.

* * *

"Well is she going to be alright? What's wrong with her?" His voice was hurried, full of worry and insistence. His eyes grew dark with anger. "I knew I should have stayed with her last night."

Van glared at him. "She'll be fine, Thomas. Give her time." He turned and looked at the pale blonde, impulsively brushing a few strands of hair away from her closed eyes. "It was just a nightmare." He sighed. How badly he wanted to believe that…

"What kind of nightmare ends like this?" Thomas asked harshly, gesturing to the unconscious girl before him. "Not to mention the fact that you didn't exactly come out of this unscathed." Another sweeping hand motion, this time in the direction of Van's hands, on which several cuts were visible. "Those fingernails of hers could be considered lethal weapons by now."

"It was just a nightmare, Thomas." Van repeated tonelessly. "She's going to be okay." His eyes never left Fiona's face; he couldn't tear himself away. Every time he tried he was stopped by the thought that she would wake up and he wouldn't be there. But he had to be there. He knew that.

It was the only way he could convince himself that she was going to be alright. The only way he could bring himself to believe the words he spoke.

_It was just a nightmare…just a nightmare…okay…she's going to be fine…just a nightmare…_

"Hey Van," Irvine entered the room, coming to stand beside Fiona's bed. He knew Van wasn't going to look at him; he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask. His coming here was pointless, but he felt it had to be done, anyway. "Don't you think you should eat or something? Sleep maybe?" _5, 4, 3, 2…_

"No." His answer was quiet, but firm. Immediate. No amount of persuasion would change it.

Irvine sighed. "Van…"

"I said no, Irvine." Controlled rejection.

Calm was not Van's style. It just wasn't how he worked. And his composure bothered Irvine. It made the situation too serious.

It made it too real.

He let the subject drop, smart enough to know this was a losing battle. "How is she?"

"She'll be fine," Van replied mechanically. "It was-"

"'Just a nightmare'," Thomas interrupted mockingly. He shook his head, laughing grimly. "Get real, Flyheight. You can't tell me you honestly believe that."

Irvine turned on him, scowling. "Lay off, Thomas. This wasn't Van's fault."

"Did I say it was? Did I?" Thomas asked, his face the picture of innocence.

Irvine clenched his fists and glared. "Keep talking. I dare you."

"Don't, Irvine," Van spoke up softly. "It's not worth it." He still hadn't moved.

Thomas looked haughtily at Irvine, lifting his head high as he turned to walk out of the room. "Take care of Miss Fiona while I'm gone," he called over his shoulder. "If you can." Grim laughter echoed down the hallway.

"It's fine. He's just upset." Van told Irvine quietly, as though sensing he was ready to go bash Thomas' smirk right into the wall.

"That's no excuse." Irvine growled, but he didn't follow Thomas. Instead he sat down next to Van and looked over at Fiona. "Do...do you really think she'll be alright? I mean...what really happened last night?"

Van sighed. He only wished he was able to explain it. "I-I don't know. It was a nightmare at first...but then...it turned into something more. Something she couldn't control."

Irvine's brow furrowed in confusion and frustration. "What exactly do you mean?"

"I'm not really sure how to explain it." Van replied, turning at last to face his friend. His face was void of emotion save the eyes, which were filled with anxiety. And he stared, unblinking, so that Irvine couldn't quite tell if Van was really seeing him or not. He continued, in a toneless voice. "All I know is it took every ounce of strength I had...to tear her hands away from her throat."


	3. Catalyst

_Ginger_

Fadeaway Windwaker

**Chapter Two: Catalyst**

Sometimes Fiona missed having color in her world.

All she ever saw when she closed her eyes was black. When she opened them, the contrast of her mind to the real world was too much, and she forced herself to see nothing but grey. Her vision was dull because her mind was dull. Everything was pale.

But she smiled.

She smiled because she was supposed to, because they all expected and liked it, because if she didn't she would have to wear black instead of pink, and she didn't know how to handle that.

If she cared to try and figure things out, she might say she was going crazy. If she cared to differentiate between sane and insane, if she cared to seek the truth, she might admit to someone else that she was being torn apart, slowly, and she needed help. But when she woke up, she only searched the room quietly, and rose from the bed. When she reached the mirror, she stared at her haggard reflection for some time before making her decision.

She was leaving. She would not sleep in this bed, in this room, again until everything was over. Until everything had stopped. The effort that would go into speaking, into explaining, was too much to imagine, so she would go alone.

She was surprised to find she was already alone. Whenever she was sick, whenever she was upset, Van would stay by her side. Perhaps this instance had been too much for him to handle. Perhaps he was too busy to keep watch over her. Her reflection shrugged. Was she really surprised?

Fiona dressed slowly, ignoring the implications of what she was about to do and holding her breath every time she heard a sound from the hall. She tried not to think that Van had spent every minute since he'd met her keeping her from danger, from the man she was planning to find. She'd been too weak lately to be of much assistance around the base, but unbeknownst to the others she was still as conscious of the boy's whereabouts as anyone else.

She straightened her bow and looked in the mirror again with a sigh. They all thought she was deteriorating; she wasn't strong enough to handle the aftermath of the war. Aside from hopefully stopping the nightmarish visions, her journey would prove them wrong. She wasn't afraid to face him on her own terms, in daylight. She could handle that.

She stepped cautiously into the empty hall. She had only taken a few steps before someone nudged her back.

"Zeke..." The organoid gazed at her curiously. It was no use hiding her intentions—she and Zeke were too closely connected. "I'll come back," was all she could say, though she didn't know if it was true or not. She still hadn't been able to discern if the terror-filled nights were only in her head or if they hinted at something in the future. Perhaps, she had thought on occasion, she would have to die to make it stop.

The organoid turned away slightly and she reached for him in a panic. "Please, he can't know." Zeke looked at Fiona, almost daring her to give him a good enough reason not to tell Van of her leaving. She sighed at the creature's stubbornness. "Trust me, alright?" She stroked Zeke's head, eyeing him hopefully until he at last nodded. "Okay," she agreed, glad she had avoided a scene so early into her escape.

She didn't think of Van again until the base was a mile or so behind her Gustav, and then she felt sorry for leaving him. He never would have been able to understand, though—he had watched her grow but he still treated her like the most fragile of possessions. At any rate, this endeavor involved only herself and the man in her nightmares. Only one of them would walk away, and she needed to show up alone.

**A/N: So far, so good? Thanks for the reviews; I will become a more interactive author, I promise. I've been on (and more recently away) from this website for ages and I'm easing back into it. **


	4. The Ties That Bind

_Ginger_

Fadeaway Windwaker

**Chapter Three: The Ties That Bind**

"I know we've been in the same part of the desert for days, stop reminding me." The sour-faced Zoid pilot fiddled with the controls and brought his Genobreaker to a stop. "If you want to look around and use your innate sense of direction, be my fucking guest."

With a low growl the dark organoid landed on the sand and watched as his master jumped down from the Zoid. "There's nothing out here, Shadow. I don't know why you insist on wasting my time." Raven ran a hand through his hair and grimaced at the pain in his hand. The organoid's grumbling caught his attention and he glared. "This is our lifestyle; we're doing what we've always done. Whatever Flyheight thinks, we are not finished." He lifted his gaze to the sky, blinking at the harsh light. "We are not finished."

Shadow turned away from the boy; it was useless trying to talk to him when he went off on one of these reveries. The dust was roiling a ways off and he peered into the distance, trying to discern if it was just the wind or something more disturbing the land. He growled deep in his throat; another Zoid was coming.

"There's no one out there, Shadow. No one in their right mind would be out here now." Raven glared across the landscape. "There are too many sleeper Zoids left and not many people can afford a battle." He looked up at his hate-worn Genobreaker and felt a dull pain in his throat. His memories were jarred by his organoid's nudging his arm, urging him to pay attention. "I'm telling you Shadow, there isn't anyone-" The warrior's words were punctured by a high, piercing scream. Raven looked in the direction Shadow was growling in and felt the evasive strains of a sickly grin tugging at his mouth. He quickly repositioned himself in the Genobreaker and gestured to his companion.

"Come on, Shadow. I think we're finally going to see some fucking action around here."

* * *

She had been letting the Zoid guide her, paying little mind to her surroundings. The only information available was the former warrior's general direction; no one knew exactly where he had gone. There was very little for her to do in the way of piloting; she simply set a direction and let the Gustav do the rest. With her thoughts so focused on the raven eyes of her nightmare, she failed to notice the vibrations in the ground until the sleeper Zoid was practically on top of her.

Fiona shrieked in shock and quickly fumbled for the controls. She managed to narrowly avoid the enemy Zoid's attempt at a head-on collision and cursed herself for taking the Gustav—of course sleepers would be programmed to attack transport Zoids under the belief they were carrying munitions. She was beginning to realize acting on impulse had been a terrible idea. Lords, she could have at least brought Zeke, if not Van. How stupid to have run into him before she left and not think to take him along.

Fiona's musings were distracting her from the task at hand. Before she could react, the sleeper Zoid had slammed into the right side of the Gustav. There was no serious damage but the contact jostled Fiona in such a way she smacked her head against the side of the cockpit and was knocked unconscious. The indifferent sleeper, sensing the lack of any opposition, simply jostled the Gustav a few more times and scuttled back under the sand.

Moments after its disappearance, the Genobreaker lurched into view. Raven gazed critically at the silent Gustav. Shadow growled; without waiting for Raven's cue he left the Zoid. Raven scoffed. "You can't expect me to care about whoever's in there, can you?" He watched Shadow poking at the Gustav, searching for a way in, and laughed bitterly. "Whoever they are, they're no worse off than we are. In fact-" The words died in his throat as the cockpit opened and he caught a glimpse of pale blonde hair.

"You have to be fucking kidding me."

* * *

"Where is she?" Van spun wildly from the empty bed, glaring at Irvine. "I told you, I told you I wasn't going to leave her side. What happened?"

Irvine took a few steps back from the normally harmless Van, a bit put-off by the fire in the boy's eyes. "You fell asleep sitting up. Thomas and I thought it would be best if we just took you to bed and-"

"And left Fiona alone? You knew she wasn't in her right mind, Irvine! How could you have taken me away from her?" Van smashed his hands against the wall next to Fiona's bed.

"You said she was fine," Irvine shot back furiously, clenching his fist. "Maybe you shouldn't lie next time."

"No, maybe you should listen to me and leave well enough alone!" Van turned away from the older man and sighed. "Where the hell would she have gone?" He tensed when he felt Irvine's hand on his shoulder.

"She's not that little girl you found anymore, Van. She can take care of herself. Wherever she is, I'm sure she's fine."

Van shook his head and ripped himself away from Irvine. "That's not the point. The point is she shouldn't have left." A few moments of silence passed before the Zoid warrior lifted his head and gazed resolutely at the door. "I'm going after her."

Irvine scoffed. "There's a reason she didn't ask you to go in the first place, Van. Let her go, or she won't ever come back." He stared pointedly at the exasperated boy in front of him, waiting for the logic to sink in.

"No offense Irvine, but I've never listened to you before, and I'm not about to start now." Van ran a hand through his hair. "I'm taking Zeke and going to find her."

Irvine shook his head as Van left the room. "Jesus, I hope that girl knows what she's doing."

* * *

"I didn't think it was possible but she does look worse than when we last left her, doesn't she, Shadow?" Raven examined the girl, eyes narrowed. The tiny rise and fall of her chest and the occasional flutter of her eyelashes were the only indications the girl was still alive. His gaze traveled over the strangely attractive picture of the bruises on her thin arms and what looked like faded hand-marks on her birdlike throat. "Never pegged Flyheight for a wife-beater."

The boy shrugged and turned his back on the worth-worn scene. "Let's go, Shadow. There isn't anything here we haven't seen before." He barely took two steps before Shadow swooped down in front of him, growling and hissing. Raven looked at his organoid disbelievingly, watching as the creature motioned back toward the Gustav. "Stop wasting my time." Shadow snarled insistently, tugging at Raven's sleeve when the boy turned his back. Raven turned back on his organoid furiously, annoyance blazing in his eyes.

"What the fuck do you expect me to do with her? And why the hell do you care so much?" No matter how he questioned Shadow's logic, the organoid refused to leave the spot without the girl.

"Fine," Raven snapped. He roughly tugged Fiona from the Gustav's cockpit and carried her to the Genobreaker. "If it means that much to you, we'll carry Flyheight's little toy around until he wants it back. But she had better not die on me. You know how I don't like all the extra work that entails."

Shadow grimaced and nudged Fiona neatly into the tiny crawl space behind Raven's seat. The girl shifted slightly in her sleep, unaware that the young man she had set out to find had just found her.


End file.
